An Spailpín Fánach

The Connacht Final Will Observe the Immutable Laws of Physics

2009-07-14T09:00:00.001+01:00

Neutrals who are interested in adding that certain spice to their enjoyment of this weekend’s Connacht Final could do worse than invest a thoughtful tenner on the draw at the tempting price of 15/2. Every way you attempt to make a case for one team or the other, a corollary more or less instantly presents itself. It’s like a perfect GAA representation of Newtonian classical physics, where every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

Mayo’s midfield advantage versus Galway’s more economical use of possession. The promise of Mayo youth against the All-Ireland winning experience of Galway. The Mayo backs, the Galway forwards. One steps out, one steps in again. If Croke Park are already distressed with Roscommon and Wexford drawing and screwing up their schedules, you can imagine how they’ll feel if they hear the Connacht Final is to replay in Caisleán a’Bharraigh on Saturday week.

The talking point in Mayo coming up to the game has been the possible absence of Ronan McGarrity through injury after sinister work in a club game. A bitter pill indeed for McGarrity if the worst-case scenario proves true, and it would be hard to blame him for noting the irony that he is never so popular as when not actually togged.

Ronan McGarrity has been a fixture on the Mayo team for five years when available for selection, but all you hear about him is grousing. Can’t kick, basketballer, townie, soft lad. And then when he’s missing, now because of a broken cheekbone or two years ago because of cancer, there’s suddenly a great big hole where that soft cosmopolitan basketballer with no feet used to be. The misfortunate McGarrity could be forgiven for ruefully reflecting that if only he could manage to get kidnapped by the Taliban or caught in an accident at a nuclear processing plant he might finally win an All-Star.

Mayo are still expected to edge midfield, as Galway have struggled there in recent times and Mayo have more options. But of course you can win midfield and still lose the game, as happened Kildare on Sunday. Down the years, Galway forwards have proved better at making the most of possession – that is to say, registering scores – than Mayo. As such, Galway not require the same level of midfield dominance that Mayo do.

Galway’s formline coming up to the Connacht Final has been difficult to understand. They looked magnificent in the monsoon against Kerry last year in Croke Park, the game where Michael Meehan came of age in a performance worthy of his natural genius. Galway started the league where they left off in the Championship and then suddenly their form dropped off, drawing with Derry and losing to Mayo in Tuam. A few weeks ago the nation was treated to the very unusual sight of Galway needing a last minute goal to finally see off Sligo. Aristocrats haven’t been under such pressure since Robespierre, Marat and Danton formed a rather devastating inside line for Paris Sarsfields.

The worrying thing from a Mayo point of view is that while form goes up and down, class and quality are constants. If scores are level on seventy minutes and P Joyce gets the ball within sight of the posts he can break Mayo hearts. He’s done it before. Cormac Bane destroyed Mayo on his own in Salthill two years ago. Armstrong, Meehan, Nicky Joyce, Conroy – there isn’t a glugger among them. And not all of those fellas are even guaranteed starts. The seams of forward gold run deep in the land of the heron choker.

It’s interesting that the games that John O’Mahony has lost against Galway have been down to Galwaymen seizing the day. Padraic Joyce in Castlebar last year, Bane in Salthill two years ago. Mayo travel to Salthill this year in the interesting position of having an inside line that can potentially match Galway for firepower. The opportunity is there for Aidan Kilcoyne or Aidan O’Shea or Barry Moran to seize the day and announce their presence in a way that no Mayo forward has since John Casey did in the almost-miracle year of 1996. And that’s a very heady prospect.

Optimism has risen in Mayo after Roscommon got such a terrible hiding in Castlebar, and suddenly your correspondent understands what people from other counties mean when they talk about Mayo fans getting carried away. Because potential doesn’t always pay off.

One of John O’Mahony’s pet phrases from his time in Galway in 1998 was that the opportunity of the lifetime only lasts for the lifetime of the opportunity. Aidan O’Shea looks like he could be wearing green above the red for the next decade, but life only exists in the now. Sometimes tomorrow never comes. You have to deliver today.

If Mayo win their first Connacht title since 2006 then the year will be a success and the pressure will be off John O’Mahony whatever happens in the rest of the summer. Should Mayo not win the All-Ireland – and it’s entirely possible that they won’t – there will be grousing, but a win in Salthill means that Mayo will have won something, and whoever does eventually beat them will have to be pretty hot stuff. The faithful can live with that.

But for Mayo to win Mayo’s young guns have to find their marks. Because Galway have a heady enough combination of stone killers, wily old foxes and out and out superstars to punish them if they don’t, men willing and capable of leaving Mayo beached once more by the seaside wondering about what might have been.

Technorati Tags: Ireland, sport, culture, football, GAA, Mayo, Galway

And It Makes Me Wonder - How Does It Affect You Blokes?

2009-07-13T09:00:00.001+01:00

An Spailpín Fánach has been rather shaken all week by those pictures in the papers of Robert Plant receiving his CBE (Commander of the British Empire) from His Royal Highness Prince Charles of England last week. Robert Plant is the lead singer of what was once the heaviest, meanest, most badly behaved band in the world, and now he’s hob-knobbing with royalty. He has received the ultimate endorsement from the establishment.

The bizarre thing is that Plant now is exactly who he was thirty-five years ago when Led Zeppelin were at their height, although he might now, after Leonard Cohen, ache in the places where he used to play. It’s the establishment that has sold out.

Daniel Finkelstein was attempting to explain the bizarre reaction to the death of Michael Jackson in the London Times last week, and he concluded that this is who we are now. That there is no such thing as a generation gap repeating every generation – that there was only ever one generation gap, between the generation that had fought in World War II and the generation that grew up in the ‘sixties, and the ‘sixties generation has won completely.

The values of the ‘sixties generation – peace, love and understanding, but maybe a little woolly on the details - are now the dominant values in society. Hence the bizarre attempt to portray Jackson, a man born black but who died white – insofar as he was recognisably human by the end at all, God love him – as a civil rights hero.

And the more you think about it, the more correct you realise Finkelstein is. AC/DC challenged Led Zeppelin’s reputation as the baddest rock band on the planet for a while in the ‘seventies, not least when the late Bon Scott was their lead singer, but was it Hell’s Angels and ne’er-do-wells that were in Punchestown last week rocking to Whole Lotta Rosie, or was it bankers, accountants, solicitors and other shining lights of the petit bourgeois?

As a hint, Hell’s Angels would have brought their own bikes, and not be standing around, looking at their watches, wondering why the 12.40 bus was ten minutes late and remarking that it wasn’t good enough and a stern letter would be written to the Irish Times in the morning. Rock and roll is now the music parents play to scare their children.

An Spailpín Fánach has his doubts about the viability of the culture that has Led Zeppelin as the ne plus ultra of music, but the Brown government over the water is relentless in its attempt to appeal to the lowest common denominator – due in part, one fears, to its inability to appeal to anyone else. When Elizabeth II was crowned the music featured Vaughan Williams and Sir William Walton, but Prince Charles’ first wife was waked to the strains of Elton John. Is Robert Plant - or Sir Robert, who knows - going to give Ramble On a run-through when they finally give Charles the key to the car?

I quite enjoy Led Zeppelin myself, of course, but it’s no harm to keep them in perspective. Which Rolf Harris does so devastatingly this clip. Take it away, sport:

Technorati Tags: culture, music, Led Zeppelin, Robert Plant, Rolf Harris

Mean Streets

2009-07-09T21:55:00.003+01:00

I live on a side street that joins a main road. When I was on my way home from work this evening, I saw a little old lady crossing the side street. She had one of those wheeled walkers that are getting more common now, and she was pegging it – going as fast as she could.

I thought it was too bad that an old woman was so worried about the traffic that she was hurrying like that at a green light, at a rate beyond her capabilities. But what confused me was that after she had crossed the road, the old lady continued hurrying – nearly skipping along after the walker, struggling to keep up, like a child with a scooter that’s too big for her. And I couldn’t figure out what was making her hurry. So I stopped to look.

There was a bus coming up the side street. The bus route goes up the side street and then turns left into town. There’s a bus stop about fifty or sixty yards from the traffic lights, and this is where the old lady was headed. And she was pegging it because she wanted the catch the bus.

Now. I am aware that the bylaws and regulations and the book says that drivers are only allowed stop at the authorised bus stops, but this was an old woman. She was clearly not in the prime of health, having the walker in the first place, and I thought she might even take a tumble trying to work the thing. Did the bus stop?

The bus stopped alright. But he didn’t stop to pick her up. The driver drove on to his authorised stop, and then sat there waiting at his convenience like My Lord’s Bastard while the little old lady scuttered along on her walker, like a hen trying to fly.

It's been a sour evening. I'll be glad of the rain.

Technorati Tags: Ireland, Dublin, Dublin Bus

Questions & Answerzzzzzzz

2009-06-30T09:00:00.000+01:00

The last ever episode of Questions and Answers was broadcast last night on RTÉ 1 at ten-thirty or so. An Spailpín Fánach didn’t see it; I was tucked up in the cot, as befits those who must rise with the lark. But I doubt if I missed very much.

The tributes that have been paid to Questions and Answers are an unusual instance of people getting nostalgic after something before it’s actually gone. It’s a strange post-hoc imagining of a reality that never was. Because Questions and Answers was never essential viewing. It was anything but, and the problem with that lies with the presenter.

Questions and Answers was never about searing debate on the great issues in Irish public life. Insofar as that existed anywhere, it was on the Late Late Show. Questions and Answers was all about pieties and platitudes, trotted out, nodded at, entered into the record and consigned to history with a big shrug of so what.

Questions and Answers was on the air for over twenty years – can you think of five incendiary episodes? A strike rate of one good show every four seasons isn’t exactly riveting. A typical panel would consist of Mary Hanafin, Phil Hogan, Senator Joe O’Toole, Kathy Sheridan and Brigid Laffan. Be still, my heart!

Part of the fault for this lies with John Bowman. Bowman has many fine qualities as a broadcaster – he is a marvellous psephologist during elections, his archival programs early on Sunday morning on Radio 1 are always fascinating – but as a chairman of a panel debate he was extremely limited. In his insistence in going through a checklist debate never existed and the show became a procession of platitudes and empty rhetoric.

Bowman was also noticeably touchy about a discussion veering into territory that he himself did not favour, and would quickly pull the discussion back to where he felt it belonged. A chairman has to do this sometimes in order to maintain order, but too heavy a hand stifles rather than stimulates discussion.

The most interesting episodes of Questions and Answers happened when Bowman was replaced in the chair by Vincent Browne some years ago. Browne is another flawed broadcaster in many ways but as an agent provocateur he is without equal. Browne had the ringcraft that Bowman lacked to always have a discussion on the edge of boiling over. When Bowman sensed a row he reigned back; Browne drove the horses to the ledge.

Questions and Answers played its part in Irish political history when Brian Lenihan was ambushed on the program during the 1990 Presidential campaign, but that does not make it an institution in Irish political broadcasting. Seán Doherty’s interview with Shay Healy on Nighthawks was also a landmark, but I don’t think any of our universities will be setting up Schools of Tania Studies as a result.

Questions and Answers was significant because it was there in the first place, as opposed to what it was. And that is what damns it. Because relevant current affairs journalism should be about more than tokenism and going through the motions.

Technorati Tags: Ireland, RTÉ, politics, Questions and Answers, John Bowman

Gaeilge á Labhairt ag an Leon

2009-06-26T09:00:00.002+01:00

Agus an Spailpín Fánach ina stócach agus gan mórán le déanamh aige, léinn cuid maith dírbheathaisnéisí imreoirí rugbaí na Breataine Bige. Bhí roinnt maith acu i leabharlann Bhéil an Átha i rith m'óige agus léigh mé gach uile ceann acu - Barry John, Mervyn Davies, Gareth Edwards, Gerald Davies. Thit mé ar leabhar JPR Williams i síopaleabhair cáiliúil ar an dTrá Fhada, California, Meiriceá, bliain nó dó ó shin agus tá sé ar an seilf agam anois.

Rud amháin a chur isteach orm maidir le ré glórmhar rugbaí na Breataine Bige ins na seachtóidí ná chomh tírghrách agus a bhídís. Scríobhadar chomh minic faoin rud seo hwyl, saghas paiseanta catha atá ag an gcíne na Breataine Bige, agus acusan amháin.

Chomh maith le sin, scríobh siad go labhraídís sa mBreatnais ag an sínte amach chun dallamullóg a chur ar an sean-namhad. Bhí a dteanga féin an-tábhachtach le cúpla duine acu - Ray Gravell, go dtuga Dia trócaire air, mar shampla - agus ba chúis mór bhróid acu go raibh a dteanga féin acu.

Tháinig sé sin ar áis im'intinn inne nuair a léigh mé go raibh Lúc Mac Gearailt chun tosú ar an gcliathán leis na Leoin i gcoinne na Afraice Theas amárach. Mar is Gaeilgeoir é an Gearaltach, atá go minic ag labhairt le Seán Bán ar Raidió na Gaeltachta nó ar TG4, agus ba chóir dúinn bheith bródúil as.

Is ait an rud é Gaeilge a chloisteáil i gcanúint láidir Bleá Cliath 4, ach is cuma go deo. Níl fios ag duine cad í fíor-chanúint na Gaeilge ar aon scéal. Léigh mé agallamh leis an nGearaltach roimh an dturas agus dúirt sé go raibh an Ghaeilge agus an tír ana-mhór do agus dá athair, Des, a chaitheadh geansaí glas na hÉireann ina aimsir féin. Táid beirt ag déanamh an iarracht, agus sin é an rud is tábhachtaí.

Beidh brú mór ar na Leoin amárach, thús i sléibhte ceartlár na hAfraice Theas. Bhí an t-ádh dearg acu nár rinneadh scrios orthu sa gcéad cluiche agus, mura dtiocfadh fir ionadaí na hAfraice Theas isteach tar éis an chéad uair, seans go gcuirfí faoin bhfód iad chomh dona nach bhfeicfidís solas na gréine arís ar an dturas. Ach ní chuireadh, agus táid beo fós.

Is dócha go mbeidh an lá ag Die Bokke agus má bheidh, ní nach ionadh é mar is foireann go sár-mhaith iad, go h-áirithe suas 'sna tosaithe agus sár-imreoirí acu dá chuid du Plessis, Botha, Matfield agus Burger. Ach beidh seachtar nGael ag caitheamh na geansaí dearga cáiliúla ar an Sathairn, agus fios ag ceann acu nár chóir bacaigh le mac an bhacaigh. Go n-éirí leis agus leo. Nócha a naoi, a bhuachaillí, nócha a naoi!

Technorati Tags: Gaeilge, spórt, rugbaí, Leoin na Breataine, Springboks

An Chathair Fholamh

2009-06-24T09:00:00.001+01:00

Bhí sár scannán sa bpictiúrlanna cúpla bliain ó shin darbh ainm 28 Days Later. Baineann an scannán le fear a dhúisíonn i leaba ospidéil agus an domhan athraithe go deo i ngan fios dó. Tá radhairc chumhachta ag tús an scannán ina théann mo dhuine isteach go gcathair Londain, agus gach duine imithe as.

Níl an scéal chomh dona i mBaile Átha Cliath fós ach a Thiarna Dé, is dall an súil nach dtabharfadh faoi deara nach bhfuil an méid tráchtála sa gcathair mar a bhíodh. Nach bhfuil ar chur ar bith.

Éistim le Morning Ireland gach maidin, agus de gnáth anois tosaíonn duine an AA le "bheul, iontach go léir, níl mórán gluaisteáin ar na bóthair fós ar maidin." Tar éis cúpla mí, ní iontach an scéal é níos mó. Is gnáthscéal é anois.

D'inis cara an Spailpín le déanaí go raibh air dul sa ngluaisteán ó Maigh Nuad go dTor an Bhacaigh maidin amháin, agus rinne sé an bealach faoi uair a chlog. Bliain nó dó ó shin, ní bhuailfeá Leamhcán amach ó Maigh Nuad i dturas uaire, fiú amháin áit taobh eile na cathrach.

Ach malairt an scéil atá againne anois. Bíonn na bóthair ciúine go leor sa tsamhraidh agus na páistí sa mbaile ón scoil, ach anois is mar príomhbhrod an Maire Celeste an chathair anois, i gcomparáid le mar a bhíodh. Scríobh David McWilliams i bpríomhleabhair an ré Tíogair, The Pope's Children, go raibh bóthair na cathrach lán le leoraithe á thiomáint ag Breakfast Roll Man ag bualadh a bhealach amach ó Bhudland go dtí an suíomh tógála. Tá an fear céanna sa leaba anois gach maidin, agus fanann sé ann chomh fada mar ab fhéidir. Fad atá sa leaba ní chaitear airgead, agus níl an airgead chomh flúirseach mar a bhíodh.

Feictear an easpa daoine i siopaí an Tíogair freisin, ach go h-áirithe i siopaí na h-ionadaí siopadóireachta. Is breá leis an mBleá Cliathach a éadaí fóillíochta, agus tá na h-ionadaí siopadóireachta lán le siopaí dá chuid seo. Bhí an Spailpín amach i gceann amháin acu le déanaí, in Ionad Siopadóireachta Bhaile Bhlainséir. Níl an siopa chomh láidir le Ardeaglais Chartes, ach níl sé beag ach an oiread.

Ach an oíche seo, bhí láidreacht an siopa curtha i gcodarsnacht le chomh folamh agus a bhí an siopa. Bhí na cultacha reatha bándearg crochta go néata ar a gcrochadáin, ach gan cailín dá laghad chun dul isteach agus a smaoineamh go rabhadar "deadly." Bhí beirt cailíní siopa ag fanacht ar an scipéad airgid, ag breathnú ar a n-ingne agus ag smaoineamh cá raibh na siopadóirí, agus cathain a bhfillidís ar ais. Táid ag fanacht fós, is dócha, go bhfóire Dia orthu.

Technorati Tags: Éirinn, polaitíocht, meathlú, Baile Átha Cliath

Rosserini Fight the Good Fight

2009-06-16T14:26:00.006+01:00

Roscommon is a fine county, and it’s always a highlight of the summer when Mayo play the sheepstealers.

Roscommon and Offaly - midlanders both - are two of An Spailpín Fánach’s favourite GAA counties. They lack the population of Dublin, Cork, Galway or Mayo but what pride and heart they bring to the occasion. You may win against them but you will never defeat them. For them, the road goes ever on.

Mayo supporters are spoiled with success. Certainly the summers of 1996, 1997, 2004 and 2006 did not end as the Mayo support would have hoped, but until the throw in on those fateful September Sundays, didn’t we have days? Didn’t we? Rich memories to call back in emptier times – the first Mayo supporters to walk up the hill as winners in Tuam since 1951. Defeating Kerry in 1996. Beating Galway after conceding 1-3 in the first ten minutes. Beating Tyrone. Beating Dublin.

Roscommon have existed on the other side of the football world in the past twenty years, as the magical era of Earley, O'Connor, Keegan and Lindsay fades to sepia. Living on scraps. Suffering a cruel and hideous fate in the first year of the qualifier system. Going through managers the way the HSE goes through money – that is to say, like a devouring flame, leaving a scorched and barren earth behind them.

That may change on Sunday. It may not. Hard to say without seeing a team, of course. But from what we can read from the runes of the year so far, many things will have to go wrong for Mayo and right for Roscommon for the Ross to claim their first win in McHale Park since – can it be? – 1986.

Mayo’s boy-king Aidan O’Shea is the cornerstone. He will almost certainly start at full-forward and if he goes well in there the Rossies might be heading for the gates by half-time. If, however, John Nolan or David Casey can keep him under control, then it gets interesting.

If Barry Moran starts beside O’Shea he can give the Rossies more of the same and something, surely, has to give. If it’s Andy Moran, however, shutting down Aidan O’Shea and stopping Conor from hitting the deck for those soft frees may reduce the Mayo scoring rate entirely. Dillon will cut away from distance and Pat Harte always threatens a goal-rampage, but Mayo are reliant on the Shea-on-the-square strategy for 2009. If it’s not happening for O’Shea, Mayo will have cause for concern.

But even then it’s still an uphill task for Roscommon. Michael Finneran in midfield is a Rossie of the old school but Mayo have a choice from McGarrity, Parsons and Harte to take him on and the Roscommon midfield may be living on scraps. The forwards have to maximise those scraps then against a Mayo rearguard that are certainly improved from last year, and the Rosserini have to do it without Cathal Cregg and for whom Senan Kilbride may not be functioning at one hundred per cent either.

Ladbrokes have made Mayo five point favourites for the game on Saturday, with Roscommon 4/1 longshots for the upset on the outright. Antrim were 9/2 last week against Donegal, and John O’Mahony will be able to use that to cut out any complacency from creeping in. It looks like another bleak day at the office for the constant hearts but, in the light of all they have suffered and their inviolate pride and immense appetite for the fray, it will be hard begrudge Roscommon should they have a famous night in Castlebar.

Technorati Tags: Ireland, sport, culture, GAA, football, Mayo, Roscommon, Championship 09

Kerry Haven't Gone Away, You Know

2009-06-15T09:00:00.001+01:00

“That’s not Darragh Sé,” remarked An Spailpín Fánach to his houseguests when Kerry made their first substitution in the drawn game against Cork last Sunday week. “That’s the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.”

The fact that Kerry would allow their talismanic midfielder, the man who has epitomised football in the Kingdom since he helped end the famine in 1997, to winter not wisely but too well is eloquent testimony to just how bothered they really are about the Munster Championship, and just how much the qualifier system has destroyed the Championship as we knew it.

We speak of the qualifier system like it was only introduced last year. This is the eighth year of the system. That’s the guts of two football generations. The backdoor is the tradition now.

And nobody adapts like Kerry. That’s one of the many reasons that they’ve won thirty-five All-Irelands and aren’t sated yet. Kerry whined about Down not playing catch-and-kick against them in the ‘sixties, but were quite happy themselves to win eight All-Irelands in the ‘seventies and ‘eighties playing what often looked like Olympic handball. They whined about puke football in 2003 but have since learned how to duke it out with the best of them, thanks very much.

But the chief penny that’s dropped for Kerry is that the Championship doesn’t now start until August, because it’s not until then that you face live ammunition. Until then, it’s just another challenge game really.

Cork and Kerry played a marvellous game by the banks of the Lee on Saturday but wasn’t it hard not to get the nagging feeling that maybe Kerry weren’t really bursting themselves? Sure they would have liked to win, the same way teams like to win the League, but it’s not life or death, which is the way Kerry play after the pilgrims have descended from the Reek. When it counts.

Peter Canavan said it on the TV. Cork looked magnificent, but we’ve seen this from Cork before. Often and all as they’ve beaten Kerry in Munster, any time Cork and Kerry have met when it counts Cork have taken the pipe.

A pained expression flitted across Anthony Lynch’s face when the TV3 man asked him what this win was worth after the game. Lynch came up with some platitude but he must know as well as anybody that this win isn’t worth two balls of roasted snow because Kerry haven’t gone anywhere.

All this talk about shark infested waters in the qualifiers is a lot of old blather. There will be one great big shark if a surprise happens in Ulster this weekend, and An Spailpín reckons that Jack O’Connor will be much more disappointed than Mickey Harte should Tyrone get up-ended. Kerry would much rather face Tyrone once their training has peaked in August and beyond. But Harte may have chosen the direct route this year – who can ever tell with that most inscrutable of men?

For what it’s worth, An Spailpín thinks a death knell may sound for the qualifiers when the boys in Croke Park sit down to do their sums in October. Qualifier attendance has declined over the years as the novelty wore off and people realised that there’s seldom a point in postponing the inevitable. Now the recession is here, and Kildare v Wexford in the Leinster Championship managed only eight thousand souls in Doctor Cullen Park on a beautiful summer Saturday evening, the qualifiers may be on borrowed time.

And small loss after them if they are. As previously argued in this space, the old winner-take-it-all Championship had its great beauties that have been ignored in the rush to cash in with the extra games. The weaker counties’ chances of winning All-Irelands have not increased in the Qualifier era, but at least under the old system you could stop your neighbour doing it. Seldom has bitter fruit tasted so sweet.

And how sweet would the Murphy’s be Leeside over the weekend if they knew that whoever will win Sam this year, Kerry won’t? Instead they know that Mars bars are banned from now on within a five mile radius of Darragh Ó Sé, and the big man will be spending merry summer evenings running up mountains, working off that beef and dreaming of seeing red once more.

Technorati Tags: Ireland, sport, culture, GAA, football, Cork, Kerry, Championship 09

Shell Signing Cheques

2009-06-09T21:53:00.007+01:00

An Spailpín Fánach ruefully notes that Royal Dutch Shell have paid US$15.5 million to the relatives of men executed by the Nigerian government for protesting about the way Shell did business in Nigeria. Shell have admitted no liability, but if this is so, why write a cheque? Very few commercial concerns part with loot to be sound.

No matter. Dead men don't come back, and money is small consolation. The only thing that An Spailpín is wondering is if Shell have learned their lesson. If there's an accident, God forbid, anywhere else, anywhere at all, is there now a budgetary provision made for steps-of-the-court sweeteners? Just in case, like.

Technorati Tags: politics, Mayo, Rossport, Shell

Election '09: It's Not Easy Being Green

2009-06-07T23:21:00.005+01:00

God never closes one door but he opens another. The country is going to hell in a handcart, there’s no-where left to emigrate to because the whole world is going to hell in the same handcart and the future looks grim any which way you look at it, but an Irish election remains the nation’s finest bloodsport since we stopped coursing the hare.

For the past two days the amateur psephologists of Erin have been in Heaven with the studio debates. Noel Whelan provided what must be the quote of the election so far when he said on Radio 1 on Saturday that tallying was virtually impossible due to the size of the Euro constituencies, particularly Ireland North-West. Whelan made the point that when a ballot box is opened a big bunch of votes for a particular candidate may not count for much in the bigger picture. “What looks like the bald head of Declan Ganley may turn out to be Marian Harkin’s cheek,” said Noel.

LMAO, as the young people say.

The analysis of the election is fun. One of the Sunday papers this morning opined on its front page that “Fine Gael’s sweeping victory in the local and European elections this weekend makes a general election before the end of the year almost inevitable.” An Spailpín Fánach advises against punters betting the farm on that one.

The Dáil is either in summer recess or on the verge of it, and none of our hard-working public representatives will be giving up their holliers. Then, when the Dáil returns, it’s all hands to the mast for Lisbon 2. That’s no time to go boat-rocking, because it’s safe to say that the EU is the only hope of getting any shillings into the exchequer at all for the foreseeable, and if there’s one thing that won’t impress Jerry it’s Paddy giving him a shoe in das Hinterteil while begging for money at the same time.

The opposition will find themselves on the horns of something of a dilemma post the referendum, presuming that it’s passed. If it’s not passed, not only should the Government resign but the opposition would be off their collective nuts to even attempt to govern the country. The only hope for the nation in that nightmare scenario would be to build currachs on a mass scale, and for us all to start rowing to Cuba, as this place will be all shot to hell. Great healthcare in Cuba, you know. Not like here.

And then if the referendum is passed, well, things don’t seem so bad and it’s only two months ‘til Christmas. The Budget would be tricky but, you know, when you’re in a war zone and the bullets haven’t killed you for eighteen months, you start to think maybe you’ll get home alive after all.

The trick is for Fianna Fáil, who have been abused before and are used to it, is to get the Greens to hold their nerve. The Greens are not used to this, and are discovering the price of power the hard way. Níall Ó Brolcháin hopped a ball on Prime Time tonight but all six Green TDs know that if there is an election in the next few weeks none of them are getting back, and this is not a great time to be looking for work in Ireland.

The Greens, like Fianna Fáil, can only take the advice of the old song and look out for better weather. By complete contrast, if the election were tomorrow at five o’clock that would suit Fine Gael and Labour just fine. Because the more time goes by the more likely those boys are likely to get jittery. Especially Fine Gael.

There was a poll in one of the papers where Enda Kenny topped Brian Cowen as the popular choice for Taoiseach, but it will be the slow backroom boy indeed who didn’t notice that 37% chose neither of the above. If “neither of the above” is another way of spelling “Richard Bruton,” then the Fine Gael party have to ask the question if this is indeed a dagger they see before them.

The advantage of someone Fine Gael bigwig like Phil Hogan visiting Islandeady with a shotgun and a shovel is that Richard Bruton may be the missing link that will finally take Fine Gael over the edge. The disadvantage is that they know that, whatever his other faults – Dubliners being mistrustful of culchies his chief problem, it seems. How charming of them – Enda is a marvellous man on the stump, and Richard Bruton may not be as good. Also, while Bertie Ahern beat Kenny in the leaders’ debate in 2007, Kenny suffered no mortal blows. Bruton has not been tested to the same degree. If Fine Gael zap Enda and go with Bruton, and Bruton then blows up – well, that won’t be good.

Coursing was never as good as this. Next week’s fun will feature someone like Paul Gogarty doing an Ó Brolcháin on the plinth outside the Dáil while Brian Cowen uses his singing skills to serenade John Gormley into keeping his nerve. An Spailpín believes a duet of the Kate Bush/Peter Gabriel classic Don’t Give Up would be just the ticket here.

An Spailpín will also be taking this sea change in Irish politics stuff with a pinch of salt. We get a sea change in Irish politics every ten years or so – the seventies being socialist, constitutional crusades and Spring tides come to mind – and then the pendulum pretty much swings back to where it was before. It’s been a source of interest to An Spailpín that Irish political studies are so distant from the actual on the ground reality of Irish political culture, but maybe that’s a story for another day. Right now, An Spailpín would need to see considerably more evidence before he starts buying into any fundamental changes in the nature of the Irish electorate.

FOCAL SCOIR: An Spailpín is of an age now where some of his friends are now elected councillors and doing their bit, in their different ways, for democracy. But An Spailpín would like to take a moment to congratulate Miss Emma Kiernan, unknown to me, who was elected for Fine Gael onto Kildare County Council. Miss Kiernan suffered some ungallant press coverage during the election, but she came through in the end. Good for her.

Technorati Tags: Ireland, politics, Green Party, Fianna Fáil, Election 09

An tOlc Idir Linn agus Dia - An Creideamh Cailte Go Deo in Éirinn?

2009-05-29T09:00:00.000+01:00

Agus An Spailpín Fánach ina stócach sa Chontae Mhaigh Eo ins na seachtóidí, níor shíl mé go deo na ndeor go gcaillfear an chreidimh in Éirinn. Tuigim ón stáir go raibh an Eaglais níos láidre, idir an dhá chogadh domhanda ach go háirithe, ach fágaim le huacht go raibh sí láidir go leor le mo linne.

Cuireadh craoltóireacht teilifíse ar ceal Aoine an Chéasta, in ómós an tSlánaitheora, crochta ar an gcrios. Dúnadh na siopaí go léir ag a trí a chlog, agus ní n-osclóidh iad go dtí maidin an tSathairn. Is cuimhin liom go maith amach ag súgradh sa ghairdín s'againne sa bhaile Bhéil an Átha, agus chomh ciúin a bhíodh an baile, tráthnóna Aoine an Chéasta, gach doras dúnta, gan duine nó deoraí amach as baile.

Scríobh an Sasanach Edward Gibbon ina leabhar cáiliúil Meath agus Leagadh na hImpireachta Rómánaigh go raibh an Impire caillte fiú amháin agus í i mbarr a cumhacht. Nuair a d'fhoilsigh Caesar Augustus go raibh sé éirithe ina Dhia chomh leis bheith ina fhear, bhí deireadh céanna seo leis an sliocht Rómánach agus a slí bheatha go léir. Cailleadh iad caoga bliain roimhe sin, nuair a tháinig Julius Caesar trasna na h-abhainn Rubicon, thit Poblacht na Róimhe agus d'éirigh an Impreacht ina h-áit.

Feicimid an scéal céanna anois leis an gcreideamh in Éirinn. Ba chúis bhróid na tíre é gur sheasamar inár n-aonar ar son an chreidimh leis na blianta fola fada, i gcoinne lámh láidir Shasana, an drochshaoil, Sheáin na Sagart, Soupers agus gach chuile rud. Ba chuairt an Phápa i 1978 duais na blianta fada sin don bhfíréin nár bhog.

Agus an Pápa féin ar fhód beannaithe na hÉireann, ag rá Aifrinn i nGaillimh nó i bPáirc na Fionnuisce, BÁC, bhí na cúrsaí gránna, olca ar siúl. Ag an am céanna. Dúradh i sean-scríbhinní na hEaglaise go bhfuil peacaí an "a nglaonn ar Neamh ar son díoltais." Murab iad seo na peacaí sin, cén brí atá fágtha sa fhocal?

Dúradh ag tús na hEaglaise go raibh dhá saghas peacaí ann - peacaí déanta agus peacaí neamh-déanta. Go bhfuil an béim céanna ar an bpeaca nuair nach ndéantar rud maith mar atá ar an bpeaca gránna. Níl a fhios agam cén saghas peacaí iad nuair a tharla an drochíde seo. Déantar dearmad, uaireanta, chomh soineanta a bhí an saol úd. Ach cé a mbeadh chomh dall nach n-aithneodh feoil? Nach n-aithneodh cnámha briste? Nach n-aithneodh deor?

Sinne atá ag éirí sean, ní chuimhin linn ar chomh fada siar atá na blianta ina raibh an Eaglais ina cumhacht. Craoladh Father Ted i 1996. Trí bhliain déag ó shin, agus ag éirí níos faide gach uile lá. Tá na glúine fásta suas anois agus gan aithne acu ar Eaglais seachas amadán dá leithéid Ted nó Dougal nó beithigh salacha dá leithéid Brendan Smyth nó Seán Fortune. Ní fhéidir leo breathnú siar ar stáir glórmhar na hEaglaise ach an oiread, toisc gur athraigh gach rud tar éis an Dara Comhairle Vatacánach.

Níl fios acu go bhfuil a rás rite in Éirinn. Cuirtear gealt Nietzsche, an fear a dúirt go raibh Dia marbh, im' aigne. "Cad iad na séipéil nó na eaglaisí seo," a iarradh sé, "ach tuama agus uaigheanna Dé?"

Bhí an tArdeaspaig Martin ag caint an seachtaine seo cainte faoi leithscéalta agus admháil lochta. Agus an rud is measa atáid ciontach faoi na go bhfuil an Creideamh caillte in Éirinn anois. Tar éis na blianta fada fola. Creideamh ár n-aithreacha, a sheas in aghaidh doinsiúin, tine agus claímh, caillte go deo anois in Éirinn. Go bhfóire Dia orainn go léir.

Technorati Tags: Gaeilge, Éirinn, polaitíocht, drochíde, creideamh

Bushing Lushing with the HSE

2009-05-20T09:00:00.000+01:00

If the current wretched weather has a benefit, then at least it’s keeping the nation’s young people indoors and not out al fresco drinking, which would be their recreation of choice. The rain is certainly doing a better job of keeping them off the sauce than the HSE’s current campaign is likely to do.

You’ve probably seen the ad on billboards around the country. An Spailpín has spotted it on Batchelor’s Walk in Dublin, above the car park in Sandycove and on the final billboard as you’re leaving Longford, heading east. What An Spailpín can’t figure out is what exactly that image is meant to do.

The guess is that it’s to discourage young people sitting on walls, drinking. How exactly it’s going to do that is harder to guess, because that image, especially in its five foot by ten foot incarnation, is up there with Édouard Manet’s déjeuner sur l'herbe as a portrait of bliss naturel. The perfect depiction of a perfect summer’s evening of conviviality and friendship.

Look at the thing – isn’t it gorgeous? Wouldn’t you feel like popping down to Centra yourself for a six-pack and hopping up on the wall along with them? Have you registered how sophisticated the girls are? This isn’t some bunch of nyuks here – these are the cool kids at school, the Fonzes, the Buffys, the Blair Waldorfs.

An Spailpín doesn’t have the figures for how much the campaign cost, and is too stricken in years to wait for a answer through the freedom of information process, but it’s a reasonable guess that the HSE would have blown between half and one million Euro on this ad campaign. And it’s reasonable to ask what exactly they wanted to get for all that money.

Did they want an ad campaign that warns the comfortable middle classes of south Dublin – themselves, in other words – that their offspring may enjoy an alcoholic beverage of a summer’s evening, or do they want to protect vulnerable children from making a very bad lifestyle decision, one which may cost them the rest of their lives?

The sickening thing is, of course, that one single ad could have taken care of both their own worries over Sodhrcha or Uirlis bushing lushing in Herbert Park and the actual children at risk – all you need is a still from the movie The Snapper of Sharon up on the bonnet of a car getting knocked up by Georgie Burgess while Sharon is comatose with drink. You then splash a head across this that reads: “Not alright, Sharon,” and put the contact details about who to talk to at the bottom.

This is a time when the money spent on these ads could be spent on not closing down wards in Crumlin Children’s Hospital. This is serious. Lives are at stake. This sort of stupidity is not good enough.

Technorati Tags: Ireland, politics, HSE, waste, drink

Has George Lee Changed His Tune on the Building Industry?

2009-05-15T09:42:00.002+01:00

I'm only askin'.

(pic: today's Irish Indo)

Technorati Tags: Ireland, politics, George Lee, Fine Gael, media

Ryan Tubridy to Host the Late Late Show

2009-05-12T09:00:00.001+01:00

The really astonishing thing, of course, is that The Late Late Show has lasted as long as it has. The very fact it survived under Gay Byrne for thirty-seven years is amazing in itself. But once Byrne retired, RTÉ realised that the brand was so enormous that it simply couldn’t be discontinued. The Late Late Show was drawing in far too much money to even contemplate the idea of Byrne taking it away with him on his new motorcycle.

And so it has marched on, presented by Pat Kenny, for ten years. Ten years! An Spailpín Fánach does not know anyone who enjoyed Pat Kenny’s Late Late Show, and yet the viewing figures were consistently huge. Ten years, and never been kissed.

The Irish nation sat at home in their hundreds of thousands every Friday night, during the most prosperous times the country has ever seen, to watch Pat Kenny pretend to be interested in what some B-list bimbo on some C-list English soap had to say about where she buys her shoes, her take on Martin Heidegger and the influence of phenomenology on his metaphysical theories, and why she loves Mamma Mia!

One of Gay Byrne’s countless gifts was that he had an endless appetite for this sort of stuff. Yes, he delighted in guests like Sir Peter Ustinov or Billy Connolly, but he was equally happy whenever Tom O’Connor popped over from the mainland, with limp jokes about golf sweaters. Deep in the hidden heart of him, is it the case that Gay Byrne was never as happy in his life as when he was interviewing Ken Dodd and the Beatles for Granada TV in the early 1960s? Was everything downhill for him after those impossible peaks?

How Pat Kenny must have despised the countless interviews with someone like Andrew Sachs’ grand-daughter, and her three charming friends. Pat Kenny, whatever else you may say about him, is no daw; RTÉ did a heart monitor survey once in the eighties to see what effect the cameras going live had on their presenters, and Kenny’s never flickered one single beat. Remember him on Today Tonight or doing the elections in the early 1980s, with the hair sprayed in place, and the steely silver specs, grilling Jim Kemmy or Martin O’Donaghue?

What a fall from that to “former EastEnder Letitia Dean talks to Pat about the effect being in the soap had on her life, being at her fittest at 41 and her current stint in the stage version of High School Musical in Dublin.” The horror, the horror.

Gay Byrne seemed to be interested in everybody, even if he wasn’t. That was one of the reasons why the famous Mike Murphy hidden camera sketch was so funny – it was astonishing to see Byrne lose his cool. Whereas Pat Kenny struggles to hide his boredom or his contempt. When Kenny tore up the entry of that lady in a competition who wasn’t impressed with her prize the writing was on the wall. Kenny is returning to current affairs now, and he’ll be much more at home.

And so Ryan Tubridy takes over. Every generation, perhaps, gets the Late Late Show it deserves. It is appropriate that Pat Kenny presented the Late Late during the property boom that is now devouring its own tail – Pat Kenny, who fought the battle of Gorse Hill, and ended up paying over one million Euro for one fifth of an acre of ground.

It’s hard to know what Tubridy will do with the Late Late. Miriam O’Callaghan was the obvious choice. She had the current affairs experience with Prime Time, and her very successful summer chat show proved that she could do light entertainment as well. And yet Tubridy has got the gig instead.

The most successful period of Ryan Tubridy’s career was when he presented a breakfast show on 2FM. He succeeded the Rick and Ruth show, and was succeeded by the incumbents, both productions that make Tubridy’s time seem like Jack Charlton’s reign as Irish soccer manager – gilded fore and aft by what went before and what came after. The rest of Tubridy’s output seems something of a mixed bag, making it hard to judge what the new look Late Late Show will be like.

What Tubridy will do with the Late Late Show is limited by the enormity of the Late Late Show itself. It is as much a part of the nation now as the All-Ireland final or Tayto crisps. What is more certain, however, is that Tubridy is very much of his time. A lot of people were hot and bothered about Kenny’s Late Late GAA tribute. One would almost wish for the GAA to celebrate 126 years next year, just to see what Ryan Tubridy would make of it.

For better or worse, Ryan Tubridy reflects who the Irish are now, and is the person to whom the majority of people aspire. The funniest thing that An Spailpín read in the speculation about who would take over as host of the Late Late Show was a squib in Irish language newspaper Foinse that Mairtín Tom Sheáinín Mac Donncha, presenter of Comhrá on TG4, had emerged as a dark horse candidate. Whatever else happens, Tubridy’s Late Late will not be anything like Máirtín Tom Sheáinín’s might have been. Whether that is a good or bad thing we’ll just have to wait and see.

Technorati Tags: Ireland, culture, TV, Late Late Show, RTÉ, Ryan Tubridy, Pat Kenny, Gay Byrne

Star Trek

2009-05-11T09:00:00.000+01:00

The new Star Trek movie is a triumph. Not just because of what it is, but also because of what it isn’t.

The makers of the new Star Trek get it. They know the single greatest element of a movie like Star Trek is that it’s got to be fun, and Star Trek delivers fun by the bucketload. For the first time in quite some time your correspondent wished that he were ten or twelve years old again, because if you see this picture when you are that certain age, it stands a strong chance of being your favorite movie until you die.

The movie is over-plotted slightly, but it is a small complaint. It’s no easy task to reinvent something that’s as established in the culture as Star Trek but the makers of the new Star Trek have been as successful in this as the makers of the Daniel Craig Bonds, and for that you can only take off your hat to them.

They are blessed in their casting also. Zachary Quinto is a marvellous Spock, taking advantage of the fact that this is a re-imagining to look at the character in a different way. When Leonard Nimoy invented the character his super-rationality was the novelty. But now, because the Spock character is so large in the culture, forty years after the TV show first aired, Quinto is able to focus on Spock’s repressed emotions rather the no-longer-novel idea of Vulcan logic, and Spock is very much the centre of the show in consequence.

The writers have to take credit also for a very witty and well-judged script. There is one scene early in the movie, when the child Spock is being bullied by the other Vulcan kids for being half-human. “Spock,” they say, as they gather behind them. Spock knows their game. “I presume you have prepared fresh insults yet again for today?” he asks, wearily. “Affirmative,” says one of the bullies.

That slew me.

The movie is gloriously and unapologetically shallow. Chris Pine’s James T Kirk is an uncomplicated alpha male who wants to get his way and isn’t too bothered about anything outside of that. Anybody looking for messages will have to pop down to Spar or Centra instead.

In one way this is slightly off-brand, because Star Trek was always seen as the thinking man’s sci-fi. But the producers have two reasons for going with the uncomplicated approach.

The first is that The Dark Knight was weighed down with strum und drang more than its ability to carry all that philosophising. It’s a comic book, not Schopenhauer. As for Watchmen, that was just rubbish. Far better that Star Trek takes the delivery of an uncomplicated good time at the movies as its remit, and piles on the thrills.

The second reason – and this is just a guess – is that the first Star Trek movie in 1979 had one of the most thought-provoking plots of all the Star Trek movies, but nobody noticed and the movie is generally considered a disappointment. Unfairly so. They boiled it down to brass tacks for Star Trek II, which is about some crazy bastard out in space and the Enterprise is sent out to blow him out of the sky. Exactly the same as the plot of this year’s movie. No daws in Paramount pictures, you know.

There will be sequels – the box office and the almost universally ecstatic reviews dictate it will be so. It will be interesting to see if they can keep the magic, or if, like the Spider-Man and X-Men franchises, they disappear under the weight of expectation. Here’s hoping the new Star Trek lives long, and prospers.

Technorati Tags: culture, movies, Star Trek, The Dark Knight, Watchmen

Jamie Foxx - Oscar Fishing?

2009-05-06T09:00:00.000+01:00

Do Hollywood stars attend each others’ movies? And if they do, do they play close attention? An immanent new release, The Soloist, suggests that this is exactly what they do.

The Soloist looks quite awful, judging by the trailer currently in the cinemas. Based on true story, the movie stars Jamie Foxx as a gifted musician who doesn’t play and lives rough in Los Angeles because he’s crazy as a bag of hammers. He’s discovered by Robert Downey, Jr’s cynical journalist, they two men go on a journey together to discover the beauty within.

Wretched, I know. But watching Downey talking to Foxx in the trailer, Foxx all shrugs and twitches and rolling of limbs, your correspondent’s mind flashed back to the last movie Robert Downey, Jr was in, and An Spailpín Fánach couldn’t help but wonder if Foxx had been to see it. And brought a notebook.

The last movie Robert Downey, Jr, was in was Tropic Thunder. Downey played an Australian actor, Kirk Lazarus, who is so into the method school of acting that he becomes black to play a black man in a war movie. Downey is utterly politically correct, truly inspired and would have been a worthy winner of this year’s Best Supporting Actor Award – even the fact he was nominated was a victory of sorts.

But what makes Tropic Thunder germane to the current discussion is a scene between Kirk Lazarus and Tugg Speedman, an action hero movie star played by Ben Stiller. Speedman had been in a movie called Simple Jack, which was his shot at making his bones as a legit actor, rather than an action hero. It bombed, and Downey's character explains to Speedman why he was never going to win an Oscar for it.

"Check it out. Dustin Hoffman, Rain Man. Looks retarded, acts retarded, not retarded. Counted toothpicks, cheated cards. Autistic, sho'. Not retarded. You know Tom Hanks, Forrest Gump. Slow, yes. Retarded, maybe. Braces on his legs. But he charmed the pants off Nixon and won a ping-pong competition. That ain't retarded. Peter Sellers, Being There. Infantile, yes. Retarded, no. You went full retard, man. Never go full retard. You don't buy that? Ask Sean Penn, 2001, I Am Sam. Remember? Went full retard, went home empty handed."

And now, one year on, here’s Jamie Foxx sawing away on his cello under the Los Angeles flyovers, doing his best for another Oscar. Looks retarded, acts retarded, not retarded. Still. Suits him better than picking on schoolgirls I suppose.

Technorati Tags: culture, movies, The Soloist, Jamie Foxx, Robert Downey, Jr, Tropic Thunder, Oscars

Ní Fheadair Oidhreacht Rugbaí na hÉireann a Cheiliúradh agus Ulaidh ar Ceal

2009-05-01T09:00:00.001+01:00

Shílfeá, agus na páipéir á léamh agat i rith na seachtaine, gur ceiliúradh mór rugbaí na hÉireann atá ós ár gcomhair i bPáirc an Chrócaigh seo chugainn. Fíor go leor go dtiteann gach chuile rud go maith don meáin maidir leis an gcluiche seo - dhá philéar breá rugbaí na hÉireann ag tabhairt aghaidh a gceile i bpríomh-eaglais spóirt na tíre, Páirc an Chrócaigh.

Gabhaigí leithscéal bhur Spailpín mura n-aontaím leis an mbreithiúnas bog seo.

Tá an tuairim amach in Éirinn gurb ionann iad foireann rugbaí Laighean agus foireann rugbaí Mumhan. Gurb mar dhá taobh an pingin amháin iad. Go bhfuil ceangal measca idir an meas agus an gráin eatarthu, mar an ceangal idir Ali agus Frazier, nó Batman agus an Joker. Go dtuigeann na Mumhanaigh iadsan i scáth na Laighin, agus vice versa, agus go bhfásann ré glóire rugbaí na hÉireann ón dhá chúige seo.

Agus níl sé fior ar chur bith. Is scéal bog éasca don meáin é, ceart go leor, meáin na Poblachta. Ach ceann de na rudaí is fearr a mbaineann le rugbaí na tíre seo ná go mbaineann an cluiche ar an tír go léir, idir tuaisceart is deisceart, gan bacadh le creideamh nó polaitíocht. I rith na laethanta fada brónacha 'sna Sé Chontae, b'fhéidir leis an tíre foireann aontaithe a chur chun páirce. Ba mór an éacht í, agus is náireach go deo anois go bhfuil an meáin chomh sásta dearmad a dhéanamh ar na Ultaigh a thug an mhéid ar thug siad ar son na tíre.

Is gránna, freisin, éisteacht le daoine ag tabhairt masla do na Ultaigh, ó chúinne a mbéal. Is fear Connachta an Spailpín, agus creidigí mise nach raibh Uladh pioc tada níos coimhthíche dom im' ghasúr i mBéal an Átha ná Baile Átha Cliath 4 cáiliúil. Is fíor go leor gur Aontaithe iad na Ultaigh, agus chomh oráiste le gloine Fanta. Ach cad a ndéanfadh cat ach luch a mharú? Nach bhfuil sé ceart go leor gurbh Aontaithe iad lucht rugbaí Uladh? Cad eile ab ea iad? Cé ab fhearr ach Seoiníní chluiche an tSeoinín a imirt?

Nuair a cloisim daoine ag gliogaireacht faoi Leoin na Breataine agus na hÉireann iarraim orm féin chomh corraithe a bhíodh Jack Kyle an idirdhealú a dhéanamh agus léine na Leon a deich a chaitheamh aige san Afraic Theas naoi mblian is caoga ó shin? Bíonn daoine na tíre seo ana-precious faoi rudaí nach mbacann le mórán, agus ní thugann siad aire dá laghad faoi chúrsaí atá tábhachtach go deo.

Tháinig athrú mór ar rugbaí na hÉireann ó bhunadh an ré gairmiúil agus an Corn Heineken. D'éirigh le Mumhan agus Laighin níos fearr leo ná mar ar éirigh Ulaidh (bíonn Connacht i gcónaí ar leataobh maidir leis an rugbaí ar ndóigh, agus ní n-athrófar sin) ach ag an am céanna ní bheidh rugbaí na hÉireann chomh saibhir mar atá sé mura raibh na hUltaigh ann. Ní chóir dearmad a dhéanamh orthu mar a dhéantar faoi láthair. Agus mar focal scoir, seo foireann rugbaí na hÉireann agus Ultaigh amháin atá togha uirthi.

Níor imir David Humphreys mórán mar lán-chúlaí ach ní fheadair é a fhágáil ar leataobh agus ba é Kyle an chéad ainm a chuireas síos. Tá súil agam go n-éireoidh Humphreys chomh maith ag 15 mar ar éirigh le Neil Jenkins leis na Leoin i 1997. 'Sé Humphreys an t-aon cúlaí nár imir leis na Leoin, agus tá caiptín na Leoin is fearr riamh, Willie John McBride, againn sa phaca. Ar an drochuair bhí rugbaí na hÉireann íseal go leor nuair a n-imríodh Phil Matthews, agus ní raibh ach aon chaibín déag buaite ag Nigel Carr nuair a chuir buama críoch ar a saothar rugbaí. Ní chóir dúinn dearmad a dhéanamh ar cad a rinne fir Ulaidh ar son geansaí glas na hÉireann.

David Humphreys; Trevor Ringland, Harry McKibbin, Dick Milliken, Mike Gibson; Jack Kyle, Colin Patterson; Syd Millar, Steve Smith, Jim McCoy; Willie John McBride (c), Willie Anderson; Nigel Carr, Philip Matthews, Harry Steele.

Technorati Tags: Gaeilge, spórt, rugbaí, Mumhain, Laighin, Ulaidh, Corn Heineken

Mayo Championship Preview 2009

2009-04-29T09:00:00.001+01:00

Whack, whack, whack, hammer, hammer, hammer, bang, bang, bang. It’s John O’Mahony’s third year in charge of the Mayo senior football team and the rebuilding process continues apace. But O’Mahony knows more than anyone that the Mayo supporters are fickle jades, and the pressure is mounting to do more in the Championship than beat Sligo and Cavan.

Trying to figure out when this rebuilding is over and there’s a team to compete for glory, An Spailpín was struck recently by an analogy Frank O’Connor uses in His Father’s Son, about a monkey eating his own tail. Subjectively, the monkey is eating, which is a good thing. Objectively, the monkey is being eaten, which is a very bad thing.

Subjectively, Mayo rebuilding is a good thing after the trauma of 2004 and 2006. Objectively, the Mayo senior football team is in a state of chassis, and that is not good at all.

Much has been made, here and elsewhere, about John O’Mahony’s tremendous power as a positive thinker and motivator of men. Seán Óg de Paor makes great play of it in his marvellous autobiography, Lá an Phaoraigh. But your correspondent can’t help but wonder if O’Mahony hasn’t missed a trick in that rebuilding process; if Mayo weren’t that broken in the first place, and the perpetual forelock-tugging that is the Mayo birthright blinds us to the fact that the Mayo teams that contested those All-Irelands were much better than they’re given credit for.

You’ll note the use of the word “trauma” to describe 2004 and 2006. But that’s not strictly accurate. September 26th, 2004 and September 17th, 2006, were wretched certainly, but everything else about those summers was magical. Beating Galway in Castlebar after gifting them a 1-3 start in the first ten minutes in 2004 was magical. Beating Tyrone in Croke Park in 2004 was magical. Throwing down a gauntlet to the Hill in 2006 and then backing it up by winning the game was magical. And the All-Ireland defeats do not mean that those other games didn’t happen. All the Mayo people who said that the All-Ireland defeats of 2004 and 2006 made them wish they’d never got out of Connacht are now getting their wish. Do they feel better?

But Mayo people are always too quick to tug the forelock, bow the head and get into to the gutter to make way for our betters. Colm O’Rourke opined on television before the Dublin v Tyrone game last year that there were four big teams of the current decade, Kerry, Tyrone, Armagh and Dublin, but Dublin were the only ones that hadn’t won an All-Ireland. The facts are that Dublin haven’t even won a semi-final while Mayo have won two. But anything Mayo do is dismissed, on the basis that Mayo were “punching above their weight.”

It’s so much a matter of perspective. The Mayo fullback gets scorched by Kieran Donaghy in the All-Ireland final in 2006, and people shake their heads and say the craythurs, sure Mayo never should have been there at all. One year later the Cork fullback gets burned every bit as badly, and he wins an All-Star. What is the difference?

Implicit in the notion that Mayo were punching above their weight is the notion that the Kerry wins in 2004 and 2006 were inevitable. That Kerry beating Mayo was as inevitable as night following day. Well no it damn well wasn’t.

Here’s when Kerry are impossible to beat. When they are in the All-Ireland final, because they always peak in September. When their talismanic captain is back in the colours. When they have not one Kieran Donaghy, but two. And when the opposition are trying to manage with the their greatest ever player having retired. With their chief scoring forward in dispute with the management. With their pivotal forward lucky to still be able to see, to say nothing of play football. With no midfield and big issues in the fullback line.

It was as hard, if not harder, for Tyrone to beat Kerry last year than for Mayo to beat Kerry in 2004, because Kerry were much more vulnerable in 2004 than they were last year. And Mickey Harte himself has acknowledged just how slim the margins are.

Mickey Harte did an interview with the great Keith Duggan of the Irish Times on the 31st of January this year where Harte summed up exactly what the difference is between winning and losing:

“This is the problem, I think, with the assessments of teams who lose. Retrospectively, you can give them six or eight good reasons why they lost and yet if they won, those same reasons are regarded as dead-on.

“I know what would have been wrong with us if we had lost: ‘bringing Stephen O’Neill back was crazy’. ‘Why did we wait so long to bring Kevin Hughes into the middle of the field?’ ‘Why did Owen Mulligan not come in sooner?’ ‘Why was Brian McGuigan not starting?’ ‘Why did you take Joe McMahon out of half forward to corner back?’ – crazy decision if we lost. But because we won, nobody bothers with them.”

That’s the margin. That’s the difference between a hero and a bum. And instead of appreciating glory days not seen since John A Costello was Taoiseach, the Mayo County Board threw John Maughan to the wolves in 2005, Mickey Moran and John Morrison after him in 2006 and even though the Mayo Board gave him another two years on his contract, Johnno will be feeling the heat if Mayo don’t claim some sort of coup this year.

How far away are they? Well, Mayo currently struggle even more than usual to put scores on the board, and Congress’ craven rejection of rules reform doesn’t help the cause. The absence of Ciarán McDonald baffles on a number of levels, and the success of the Irish’s rugby team’s golden generation in finally sealing the deal before they were too old puts the perils of Mayo’s golden generation in depressing perspective, not least with Brady, O’Neill and others having already hung up their boots for the last time.

And meanwhile, in his workshop, John O’Mahony continues to rebuild. Whack, whack, whack. Hammer, hammer, hammer. Bang, bang, bang.

Technorati Tags: Ireland, culture, sport, GAA, football, Championship 2009, Mayo

Championship Preview 2009

2009-04-28T09:00:00.000+01:00

The Championship begins on May 10th when the ball is thrown in between Mayo and New York, and it can’t come soon enough. In these grim times the GAA is about last thing we have to remind the Irish of what’s best about ourselves.

Naturally, it being our one shining star, we do our best to crush the best things about it at every opportunity, just as the panda rolls over her young. She doesn’t really mean it, but they’re dead just the same.

The latest manifestation of this urge to self-destruction is the deeply depressing defeat of the new rules – which weren’t new at all, of course – at Congress at Easter. Séamus Mallon once described the Good Friday Agreement as “Sunningdale for slow learners,” and it’s hard not to echo that great man’s frustration at the lazy and indolent resistance to cleaning up the game.

The so-called new rules were a watered down version of the sin-bin that was introduced in 2005 League. The sin-bin was a perfect solution to persistent, niggly fouling, and much more effective than what was introduced this year. So naturally the managers whined at every opportunity, saying that this man didn’t deserve a yellow, or that man didn’t deserve a yellow.

Well, yes they did, because the new rule said that the bin was what you got for being an unrepentant sleeveen. An Spailpín has often mournfully wondered if the sin-bin could have been successfully introduced if they had concurrently introduced a blue card, say, thus depriving the managers of that shield that their man “didn’t deserve a yellow.”

Too late now, of course. The bin failed and the sending-off with substitution failed, and the reason why is this: too many people like the system they way it is. They don’t think the game is about protecting flair players. They see it as a game where the only thing that matters is winning, and if that means raining punches into a man’s kidneys and then protesting that you were only playing the ball ref, feck’s sake, you were only playing the ball, then so be it. Congress has sown the wind in voting down the rule reform – let’s hope they don’t reap the whirlwind come high summer.

Jack O’Connor was one of those who opposed the rule reform. Jack is some ticket. This is the same Jack O’Connor who wrote in his essential memoir that before Kerry could face the 2006 Championship he himself had to “actually learn how to coach the tackle. Genuinely I don’t know how to do that. Tacking is something that was never heard of in Kerry, beyond telling a fella to go out there and not foul the man.” (Keys to the Kingdom, p 7, Penguin Books, 2008).

An Spailpín Fánach is happy to report that while St Patrick never did make it to the Kingdom the tackle most certainly has, and the re-appointment of O’Connor is an indication that Kerry mean business this year, aching as they do to finally put down Tyrone once and for all.

Tyrone are more than willing to face Kerry again, of course, and the prospect of the counties meeting again on All-Ireland day is one to savour and dread in equal measure. Savour, because it’s the defining rivalry of football this decade; dread, because there is a lot of bitterness between the teams, and that can lead to things getting ugly. Ugly has no role in Gaelic games. However, your hopelessly romantic Spailpín has alternative matchup that I contend would be just as good.

To An Spailpín’s mind the best game of the year last year was the operatic contest in monsoon conditions in Croke Park between Galway and Kerry, and a rematch of that would grace any All-Ireland final. Kerry need no build up, but Galway deserve to be hailed as the purists’ choice for football right now, and they have a man who could be the best footballer in Ireland, Michael Meehan, coming right into his pomp. A Galway-Kerry final would be a game to savour.

Unfortunately, neither Galway nor Kerry are that attractively priced for those who enjoy a little punt on football. Kerry will almost certainly win the All-Ireland again, as talent, will and tradition combine to tremendous effect in the green and gold, but their price is not encouraging and you would need a few more points with Galway to make up for the midfield issues unresolved there since Kevin Walsh and Seán Ó Domhnaill retired, waters who weren’t missed until the well ran dry.

Cork are a popular fancy and always produce teams of big, strong footballers, but Kerry have the Indian sign on them and it’s hard to discount that. Advocates of Cork will point to the Munster wins but it’s hard indeed not to believe that Kerry only start taking things seriously when the pilgrims have descended from the Reek.

Anybody seeking riches from outside the Big Three of Kerry, Tyrone and Galway must look to Ulster to find value. Kevin Egan, that Faithful Gael, made the point recently that Championship winners who come from nowhere are rare in recent times, and doubly so since the introduction of the Qualifiers further comforted the strong and afflicted the weak.

But if you must insist on finding such a team, you need to find one that is sufficiently under the radar to have a nice fat price, and sufficiently big time not to freeze on the great stage. And then you consider the Under-21 Final being played later this week, the rich lessons of history, and the penny drops as you sweep down to the sea to put a sneaky shilling each way on Down at 66/1. 66/1 to go all the way is real value here, for those who cannot in conscience back short-priced Kerry.

Mayo? This time tomorrow An Spailpín hopes to discuss in this space what their prospects are like in Year III of the Second Coming. See you then.

Technorati Tags: Ireland, culture, sport, GAA, football, Championship 2009

John McGuinness is Not John the Baptist. Irish Nation Please Copy.

2009-04-25T12:50:00.005+01:00

An Spailpín Fánach is stunned by the reaction to John McGuinness’ whining during the week. McGuinness got the road during the junior minister reshuffle and isn’t happy about it. Nobody would be – some people have enough in to take it on the chin and move on, some throw rattles from prams. God didn’t make us all the same after all.

But what is stunning, and deeply depressing, is the way the man is being hailed as some sort of Messiah. Marian Finucane is reading out texts on her radio show this morning along the lines of “at last, someone with the guts to speak out.”

But that’s nonsense. An Spailpín wants to know if McGuiness is only “speaking out” because he lost his state car. John McGuinness was a junior minister for two years – why didn’t he do something then? Talk is cheap. McGuiness held the reins of power for two years – what did he do with them? If he hadn’t got the road, would he be doing half the talking?

John McGuinness is doing a lot of whining about Mary Coughlan, having carefully picked the softest target in the Government. Twenty years ago Mary Harney was a junior minister to Pádraig Flynn at Environment, and she managed to clear up the smog in Dublin. Mary Coughlan can hardly be trickier than Pee was in his pomp. Has John McGuinness done anything like that with his junior ministry? Or even close?

No, he has not. And yet you read on the front page of yesterday’s Mail about what a clever and talented fellow John McGuinness is. Clever and talented how? His website would suggest his IT skills are limited, for instance.

An Spailpín Fánach has a question for John McGuinness – if things are so golly-gosh bad with Brian Cowen, why doesn’t McGuinness resign the Fianna Fáil whip entirely? Joe Behan in Wicklow, at least, had the courage to do that just that – why doesn’t John McGuiness put his money where his mouth is and quit the party?

McGuinness can’t join Fine Gael. Not because of any ideological issues of course ... but because Phil Hogan is the sitting Fine Gael TD for the Marble City and There is No Way on God’s Green Earth Phillo and McGuinness are going hand in hand up the aisle. Phil has had quite enough trouble with one McGuinness as it is – he doesn’t need another, thanks very much.

John McGuinness could always run as an independent of course, and put his money where his mouth is.

Or maybe not. How about the Labour party? Séamus Patterson got elected for Kilkenny and Labour for forty years – there’s certainly a seat there. Why doesn’t McGuinness nail his colours to the mast and do that? Labour would certainly welcome him – they got hammered in the last election in Carlow/Kilkenny and are desperate for candidates all over the country – look at whom they’re running for the European elections, for instance. Why doesn’t John McGuinness join them if he finds the current Government so intolerable – as and from the moment of his sacking, and not so much before?

But even more to the point – why doesn’t someone in the national media ask him, instead of giving him a free ride? Have we given up entirely on joined-up thinking?

Technorati Tags: Ireland, politics, John McGuinness, Fianna Fáil, media

An bhFuil an Neamhspleáchas Tuillte ag na Gaeil?

2009-04-24T09:00:00.001+01:00

Fógraíodh Poblacht na hÉireann ar an lá seo nócha bliain ó shin, an 24ú Aibreán, 1916, os comhair an GPO, Sráid Sackville (mar a bhíodh), Bleá Cliath. Bunaíodh Saorstát Éireann i 1922, sé bhliain tar éis an tÉirí Amach - tamaillín beag i rith na ocht gcéad bliain a bhíodh na Gaeil faoi smacht an choróin.

Ach an cheist atá ag bhur Spailpín dóibh inniu, trí bhliain is nócha tar éis an tÉirí Amach, ná arbh fhiú don bPiarsach, don gCléireach agus do na roinnt daoine eile ar chaill fuil nó saoirseacht nó an saol féin ar son na tíre bogadh sa chéad áit? Ar chóir dóibh an scéal a ligeadh mar a bhíodh, agus Éirinn a fhágáil mar oileán beag ar thaobh na mórthíre, ball sásta an Ríocht Aontaithe? An bhfuil neamhspleáchas tuillte ag na Gaeil?

I rith na blianta saibhre in Éirinn, blianta atá imithe anois, ba fhaiseanta an rud é a rá, tar éis béile bhreá éigin i dtigh Paddy Guillbaud's nó teach mar a chuid, go raibh a h-anam caillte ag Éirinn agus an saibhreas linn. Tá an saibhreas caillte anois, gan filleadh le tamaill fada, má bhfilleann ar chur ar bith, ach níor fhill anam na nGael ar ais. Agus an cheist a chuireann an Spailpín air féin ná an raibh an t-anam céanna ann riamh, nó an rabhamar á mealladh orainn féin leis na blianta?

Bhínn an-tógtha le cúpla líne filíochta ón bPiarsach tráth amháin, in a scríobh sé faoi uaisleacht na nGaeil, gurbh cine uasal iad na nGaeil in ainneoin a gcuid slabhra; "august, despite their chains."

Agus an tír i bponc ceart anois táim ag fanacht ar an uaisleacht sin, an uaisleacht in aghaidh na slabhra, an uaisleacht as a bhfásann ceart na nGael bheith saor agus ár n-áit a thógáil i measc náisiúin an domhain. Cad a fheicim ina h-ionad? Gach duine is diabhal ar sráideanna na tíre ag beicéal cad fúm féin, cad fúm féin. Gach duine is diabhal gan bacadh cad a tharlóidh go dtí go dtiocfaidh siad slán féin. Gach duine is diabhal ar an nguthán go Liveline ag insint Joe go rinneadar botún ina ngnó féin ach nach bhfuil siad féin ciontach fúthu, ach gur chóir an rialtas iad a thabhairt slán.

Dúirt Gael cáiliúil uair amháin nárbh í an cheist cad a ndéanfaidh tír duine ar a shon, ach cad a ndéanfaidh duine féin ar son a thíre. Tá an Spailpín ag fanacht anois ar daoine a ndéanfaidh rud éigin ar son a dtíre, in ionad bheith in a suí ar a dtóin bhoga ramhair ag fanacht ar seic agus clárach ar a bun. Beidh mé ag fanacht tamaillín, sílim.

Féachaigí ar an tír a rinneamar ins na nócha bliain atáimid "saor." Táimid níos ghiorra leis an mórthír ná mar a bhímis riamh. Tá ár meán chumarsáide neamhspleách caillte linn, agus na Gaeil sásta go leor ag léamh nuachtáin Shasana agus ag breathnú ar a teilifís. Conas atá cultúr na nGael difríocht le chultúr mór na mórthíre, mar a bheadh an agus an Lord Lieutenant i bPáirc an Fionnuisce fós?

Cáintear go minic an fhéachaint istigh a bhíodh ar siúl ag an Saorstát ins na fichidí. Is fíor go raibh an iomarca béim acu oraibh féin, agus nárbh chóir dóibh an domhan mór a seachaint go dtí mar a sheachnaítí san aimsir sin. Ach ba chóir dóibh seasamh ar rud éigin, ar an Éirinn Ghaelach a bhí á thógáil acu. Ní sheasann na Gaeil ar rud ar bith sa lá atá inniu ann. Tá brionglóid Éireann Gaelaí caillte anois, má chreideadh inti sa chéad áit.

Tá tríocha Dáil Éireann tógtha ag na Gaeil ó bhunaíodh an chéad Dáil nócha bliain ó shin, bunadh ar chomóir an rialtas seo le déanaí. Sin roinnt ama ar gcultúr féin a chur ar an rialtas, agus a sheasamh go bródúil i measc náisiún an domhain. Cad a rinneamar i rith na tríocha Dáil? Bhunaíomar agus coinnealbháimid beo cultúr ina bhfuil áit cónaithe polaiteora níos tábhachtaí ná cad a chreideann sé nó sí. Tá an iomarca Teachtaí Dála againne, agus tá an córas toghadh líofa go leor.

Léigh mé Cuimhní Cinn le Liam Ó Briain cúpla bhliain ó shin. Bhí an Brianach amach i 1916 agus ba iontach é léamh chomh brionglóideach a bhíodh sé agus a gcomrádaí faoin Éire nua a bhí á bhunú acu. I rith an cath, bhíodar i gColáiste na hOllscoile, Átha Cliath, ar Ardán Phort an Iarla, an áit atá an NCH sa lá atá inniu ann, sílim. Bhíodar ag iarraidh baracáid a dhéanamh, agus d'iarr cúpla Óglaidh ar an mBrianach an chóir dóibh cúpla seanleabhair a úsáid sa bharacáid. D'fhéach an Brianach ar na leabhair agus dúirt sé leo "sin iad Annála na gCeithre Máistrí. Má táimid ag troid ar rud ar bith, táimid ag troid ar an leabhar sin. Cuir uaibh iad."

Cé fhios anois in Éirinn cérbh iad na Ceithre Máistrí, nó cad é a leabhar? Sin an mhéid atá saoirse tuillte ag na Gaeil.

Technorati Tags: Gaeilge, Éirinn, polaitíocht, cultúr, neamhspleáchas

Fangs for the Memories

2009-04-23T09:00:00.001+01:00

It’s ironic that vampires are so big in the culture now as Ireland is being sucked dry by her people's own excesses. Count Dracula stares balefully down from posters on lamp-posts in Dublin as part of the municipality’s One City, One Book promotion (reading more than one buke per calendar year would cause anybody’s head to explode of course – best not to take the chance), while the critics rave about Let the Right One In, the remarkable Swedish vampire movie that’s currently on general release.

Let the Right One In is not like other vampire movies that you’ve seen. It’s about a little boy called Oskar, living in a soulless suburb of Stockholm and getting bullied at school, who becomes friends with a strange little girl next door called Eli. Eli walks barefoot through the snow, can’t eat sweets, and knows exactly how Oskar should respond to the bullies. No Swedish pacifism for her.

The children playing Oskar and Eli look the part, but the real horror in the movie is the utterly hideous suburb in which Oskar and Eli live. They live in a block of flats that are like Finglas in the 1970s without the anti-social activity. There is no social activity at all – just a tremendous, soul-destroying ennui that leeches the life out of you just as much as little Eli drains your blood when she’s feeling peckish.

As horror films go the movie is quite tame, really, except for the occasional gory bit, and the lasting terror is of that awful housing complex. Horror films shouldn’t be quite so – dull, I’m afraid. But it is so terribly Swedish - close-ups are the vogue in Swedish cinema always, and the claustrophobic effect of this in Let the Right One In is that when we see Eli, that unearthly child, scurrying up the side of a building, our only reaction is to say “you go, girl! Anywhere but here!”

How far from our elegant host at Castle Dracula, who so enjoys the children of the night and the music they made. Dracula is a strange choice indeed for promotion – Stoker’s connection with Dublin is tenuous at best, and the book really isn’t that good. It really isn't.

It would be interesting to discover why the Corpo chose Dracula above any others. An Spailpín is willing to bet that while many of them will have seen the movie, very few will have read the book. A promotion that claps itself on the back over one book a year would suggest that the promoters are a little off the pace when it comes to reading. A current promotion in Eason’s, where the book will be signed by The Count himself this Saturday lunchtime - how selfless of him to put his notorious aversion to sunlight aside so they can shut up the shop at half-five as usual - would indicate the audience that Dublin City are going for, and the literary set they ain’t. How very depressing.

Better, then, to ignore it completely and sate your thirsts with Joan Acocella’s marvellous appreciation of the book Dracula, warts and all, in the New Yorker some weeks ago. They have super writers in the New Yorker, and Ms Acocella is one of the very best. Bon appetit.

Technorati Tags: culture, movies, books, Let the Right One In, Dracula, Dublin

O'Connell's Steam Engine: Emulating McBride in South Africa

2009-04-21T18:43:00.005+01:00

Lions coach Ian McGeechan sprung more than one surprise when he named his thirty-seven man panel for the upcoming tour to South Africa at Heathrow this morning.

There are fourteen Irishmen on the squad, more than Ireland have ever had before, and Paul O’Connell has been named captain. It’s thirty-five years since O’Connell’s legendary predecessor for the Lions and Ireland, Ballymena’s Willie John McBride, captained the most successful Lions tour of all time, also in South Africa, in 1974. History repeating would be very welcome indeed.

The biggest shocks in McGeechan’s panel are the naming of two men who had no part at all in Ireland’s Grand Slam win, Limerick’s Keith Earls and Tipperary’s Alan Quinlan, but it would be the bitter, bitter heart that would begrudge either man his moment.

Both men are at opposite ends of the their careers, Earls just starting out but the son of a father whom many consider would have played many times for Ireland had he not made the crucial mistake of being born on the wrong side of the tracks, and the stalwart Quinlan, who has been so often left out of Ireland selections for so long. Many glasses will be raised to those men tonight, and I hope the porter is sweet.

McGeechan’s selection of O’Connell as his captain, and such flinty forwards as Quinlan and England’s Simon Shaw, would indicate that McGeehan has no intention of letting the side get bullied in the trenches by Die Bokke. It is unlikely that the infamous 99 call will be heard on the high veldt this time around, but its spirit remains.

One of the many heartening things about the upcoming tour is the return to traditional Lions virtues after the all-too-predictable horrors of New Zealand in 2005. Sir Clive brought 45 players four years ago but clearly had decided his starting XV long before they set foot in New Zealand. The rest were only ever window dressing.

McGeehan seems much more likely to let the team evolve in the six games before the first test in Durban on June 20th. Someone once described Lions tours as a cross between a school tour and a medieval crusade; if McGeehan and co can capture that buccaneering spirit than the chances are good for a record third win in South Africa against the two time and reigning World Champion Springboks.

Ironically, considering the rich history of the Lions at half-back, it is at the pivot that the Lions will be most vulnerable. Mike Phillips is the most likely contender to wear 9, and a man who cannot but remind the Springboks of their own Joost van der Westhuizen in stature and attitude, but it is hard not to be nervous looking at the back up options. Twelve years ago Matt Dawson came from nowhere to become one of the stars of the tour in the best Lions tradition; could Tomás O’Leary or Harry Ellis step up to the same degree if anything happens to Phillips?

The Lions biggest concern is at out-half. Steven Jones and Ronan O’Gara are seasoned professionals playing a professional game but, compared to the great Lions 10s of the past, Campbell, Bennett, the immortal, imperious Barry John, Kyle and Morgan of the fifties – well, it’s hard to see them quite matching up. Once the forwards have gone toe to toe with Bakkies Botha and won the ball off him, there is still then the question of what to do with the thing. The Lions have always been about running rugby; everybody plays a variation of total rugby football now, but it would be a shame if the Lions were to lose that cavalier spirit that made the jersey so famous, even though they only ever won three tours in 27 attempts.

James Hook of Wales and Danny Cipriani of England were the up and coming men with the potential to come alive on a Lions tour, the single greatest stage in World rugby with all due respect to the French, but neither of them have made the cut. It’s a source of concern, but not one that undoes the daring selection of McGeehan or the flutter of anticipation at the prospect of the Lions taking on the Springboks under African skies. Roll on tour, roll on.

Technorati Tags: sport, rugby, Lions, South Africa, Springboks, Paul O'Connell, Willie John McBride

Ní Nach Ionadh Nár Éirigh Liom!

2009-04-10T09:00:00.000+01:00

Technorati Tags: Ireland, culture, blogging, Irish Blog Awards, Gaeilge, cultúr, blagadóireacht

What Will Des Cahill's Sunday Game Be Like?

2009-04-09T09:00:00.001+01:00

Yesterday evening’s announcement of Des Cahill as the new presenter of the Sunday Game is something of a disappointment. It’s not as shattering a disappointment as watching your Bank of Ireland shares go down the Swanee River, but there is a certain weight on the heart.

It’s hard not to worry that the evening Sunday Game, the single most important TV program to the GAA fan, will end up being the Road to Croker II, a lot of soft old blather. Dara Ó Cinnéide or Setanta's Daire O'Brien would have been An Spailpín’s choice as Sunday Game presenter, but Cahill is popular in RTÉ, and popular counts.

There is an understanding abroad that Des Cahill is a GAA man, especially after his rescuing of the Late Late Show GAA special. An Spailpín couldn’t really say as I didn’t see the show, and would maintain that anyone who sat down to watch that show in the first place was naïve in the extreme, as it could only ever have been terrible.

Marty Whelan won Celebrity Bainisteoir I believe – should Marty host the Sunday Game? Celebrity Bainisteoir and the Late Late Show are mass appeal entertainment programs. They have nothing to do with sports journalism, which is where discussion of the Sunday Game should begin and end.

It would take a level of imagination that is not common in the Irish media to even attempt the change of perspective a real GAA show would require rather than the lazy platitudes we usually get. Gaelic games are not like other sports. It needs to be discussed in a different language.

There seems to be an opinion abroad that Cahill will “ask the hard questions.” People don’t always think through what they mean by that. The GAA is an amateur organisation with amateur players, who all have to go back to work on Monday. Trial by media and slow-motion replays do not suit the games or the Irish psyche.

Last year’s Galvin affair, which you would think cut and dried, was anything but. This is the problem the Sunday Game will always face. Is the appointment of Des Cahill an attempt to address that, or is it just RTÉ wheeling out their Doctor Doolittle?

Has GAA journalism has existed for over a hundred years without ever evolving its own voice? Not at all. Mick Dunne and Jim Carney were GAA men to the fingertips, but their particular style is seen as terribly passé in Donnybrook right now. Whereas Des is such a teddy bear, and even though he’s true blue Dubbalin man he worked in the country, you know. As far the Donnybrook panjandrums are concerned, Cahill is like the old lady in Airplane: “oh stewardess – I speak jive.”

Des Cahill can speak to the country bumpkins, and that gives him kudos in Donnybrook for this post. What also gives him kudos is that he has the gift of serving two masters – while his public persona is that of the man on the street, anyone paying attention to the way he chaired Sportscall will have noted that Des always took the side of authority. Telling Des about overcrowding in Tuam or Thurles was always likely to hear a recitation of the party line.

Presenting the Sunday Game will not be an easy job. Des Cahill has an extreme disadvantage in that his most obvious point of comparison is the RTÉ soccer panel, who are tremendous. But is not a fair comparison – soccer as commentated on Johnny Giles is a professional game played by millionaires. GAA men drive forklifts for Beamish and Crawford and farm fields of rushes. You cannot speak about GAA players who are playing for love in the same language you use to speak about divers, cheats, cowards and spivs who are pulling down hundreds of thousands of pounds per week.

There’s no law that says you have to hammer someone to be a legitimate journalist. And this is especially the case when you’re commentating on amateur players playing an amateur game.

Des Cahill will have to decide whom he would like to serve as presenter of the Sunday Game. Shall he serve the establishment, RTÉ, the players, his own comfort zone, or any combination of the above?

The evening Sunday Game is more important that the live afternoon show because GAA people are at matches during the live show. But they need – need – the half-nine show for analysis of their own game and the national state of things. And your deeply concerned correspondent often wonders if RTÉ actually understands this.

The single most important Sunday Game of the year is the one of the night of the All-Ireland finals. RTÉ seem utterly oblivious to this fact, and are ruining it currently by featuring reviews of the year, teams of the year, live links from the winning teams’ hotels and a lot of people pig drunk in different boozers in the winning counties. Who cares? This is Bláthnaid Ní Chofaigh stuff – it has nothing to do with sport.

Win or lose, the essential thing for the GAA fan coming back from the All-Ireland is to see the Sunday Game, meaning game footage and analysis. It’s essential. To see just how essential we can now take a trip through time and space, to the great town of Ballivor, Co Meath, on the night of the 28th of September, 1997.

If we visit one of the pubs therein, we will behold some sorrowful Mayomen in the green and red finery watching the Muiris Mac Gearailt All-Ireland on the Sunday Game to the amusement and pity of the locals. That was a long night twelve years ago, but to drive on and miss the Sunday Game would have been like ordering a pint and not finishing it. It. Just. Isn't. Done.

An Spailpín wishes Des Cahill all the best in his new role. His is a great responsibility and we need him to do well. Go n-éirí leis.

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